Critical Role: The Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of
by Troph
Summary: Jester has a very pleasant day, a more pleasant dream and a heart-to-heart with Caleb


Jester's mind and body were usually abuzz with activity. She was always thinking, usually about multiple things at once. What new drawings she could come up with. Where the group was going next. What new and interesting foods in the market she could buy. She was never still physically either, always fidgeting, shifting on her feet, playing with the jewelry on her horns. She was a woman of energy and she usually had to release it in any way possible.

Today, however, with sand warming her bare feet and the clear blue waves crashing against the shores of Nicodranas, she felt quiet. Maybe it was because the sun was shining down from a cloudless sky, warming her down to the bone. Maybe it was because she'd finally gotten to see her mother after such a long journey. Maybe it was just because she got a good night's sleep the night before. Whatever the reason, the only thing she felt like doing was sitting down to draw. No pranks. No schemes. Just sit on the beach and be at peace with everything.

She looked out to the horizon as she walked along the shore, the cool salt water running over her toes as the gentle tide cane and went. She looked up to the sound of heavy footfalls and saw Beau, jogging along in the wet sand. Jester smiled and Beau nodded as she passed, winking at her. Jester continued on, knowing that somewhere along the beach she'd find a certain smelly wizard. Caleb seemed to be wherever Beau was these days, though neither of them often said anything. Jester would see them hunched over a book together in the cart and they often took the same watch once the other had volunteered. Jester didn't understand; how can two people who say absolutely nothing to each other enjoy the other's company?

She didn't have to walk far before she spotted Caleb, curled up beneath an umbrella with a book in his lap. He was sitting on a plaid picnic blanket and Frumpkin lay at his feet, purring. He had taken off his coat and his sleeves were rolled up, revealing the web is scars that crept up his forearms. He looked less troubled, the lines on his forehead less pronounced. He seemed peaceful, which wasn't often a word to describe Caleb. Jester smiled and her heart swelled; it was good for the soul to see him this way.

Jester walked over to him, her footsteps made silent in the soft sand. He glanced up at her and she gave him a wave, twiddling her fingers and grinning. Caleb returned with a soft smile, his eyes crinkling with wrinkles he was too young to have. He turned back to his book, eyes swiftly darting back and forth along the page. Jester lay down on her stomach beside him, kicking her legs in the air as she flipped her notebook to a blank page. Caleb didn't object, so Jester figured she was fine.

She stared at the blank white page, wondering what it would hold once she was done with it. She sucked on the end of her pencil, looking around her for some inspiration. The beach was empty except for her, Caleb and the gulls who broke the serenity with their calls. Everything felt so very, very right, like a puzzle perfectly put together with the two of them as pieces. Jester put her pencil to paper; she had her idea.

Over the next hour, the air was filled with nothing but the scratching of her pencil and Caleb turning the pages of his book. Jester could see the whole scene in her mind and felt a calm that she usually only got from drawing. She thought she now understood how Caleb and Beau could be so comfortable without talking. It was just… being.

She took the pencil away from her sketch and studied it. It was a picture within a puzzle, the outlines of the pieces highlighted by their absence of lead. Other, unadded pieces lay at the edge of the page, as if the puzzle wasn't quite finished yet. On the pieces that were together, she had drawn herself and Caleb, in the same positions they were in now, though they weren't on the beach. In her drawing, they read and drew on the edge of a small lake. Caleb leaned against a moss-covered rock while Jester lay in a patch of soft grass. The scene made her smile; it was like seeing into another world, another time. Something was missing, though. She tapped her pencil against her nose and fiddled with the hanging jewelry in her horn. What could she add?

She lowered her pencil back down and sketched a small head against Caleb's shoulder. It had no face, no hair, no gender, but Jester knew that it needed to be there. She imagined it would be a boy, with Caleb's red hair, her blue skin and a face absolutely peppered with freckles. He was asleep, listening to the sound of Caleb's soft accent as he read to him. He was sweet and perfect. The picture was perfect.

Jester felt her heart swell as she began to daydream about a future with Caleb. She did this all the time with other members of the Nein, wondering what a life spent with them would be like. Fjord's would be one of searching; she wasn't so sure he had found himself yet. Beauregard was more sure of herself, but a life with her would mean stitching up fresh wounds after a night in the fighting pit. Caduceus would definitely run a tea shop, with a little idol of the Wildmother waiting by the door and a bigger altar in his back bedroom. Yasha would probably want to find her wife; more searching. Nott and Yeza would go back home with Luke, living out their days being adorable and making explosions in their laboratory. Jester had never thought about a future with Caleb before, so she closed her eyes and let herself drift into a life with Caleb Widogast.

She saw a log cabin in the middle of a wood, smoke rising lazily from the chimney. She saw Caleb bringing in a load of firewood he had chopped up and setting it outside under a canopy. His breath came out in clouds of mist and he stared into the sky as the sun set. She saw herself, rocking the child to sleep as she tended the fire. She saw Caleb taking off his coat and hanging it from a small peg by the door.

"I saw clouds coming our way," he said. "Looks like snow comes early this year."

"Oh good," she whispered, rubbing little circles into her son's back. "Mama sent us some hot chocolate powder. We can finally try it."

Her vision shifted. It was a couple months later and the Nein had all gathered into their cabin for Winter's Crest. Large, fluffy snowflakes floated to the ground outside as they all gathered around the crackling fire. Jester was curled up on the sofa, her head against Caleb's chest, her hands wrapped around a cup of hot chocolate. Caleb's heartbeat was steady and comforting beneath his hand-knit sweater. Beau sat on the other end next to Jester's feet, in a comfortable tank top and a pair of heavy training pants. New scars covered her arms and newly stitched cuts shown in the firelight. She had her bare feet on the coffee table and was looking at Caleb with a "What're you gonna do about it" face. Caleb just stared at her, brows furrowed, and said nothing. Fjord and Caduceus sat across from them in a pair of matching chairs. Fjord's tusks has grown on a level with his nose and he wore a pendant of the Wildmother on a silver chain. Caduceus had grown a few inches taller and had a new staff to replace the one he'd lost in their final adventure. Yasha kneeled on the floor, gently sipping at the small cup of tea in her massive hand. She had a thick scar on her cheek and her long hair had been cut to shoulder-length. The atmosphere was warm and everybody was happy in the silence that was only broken by the crackling of the fire.

Suddenly, there was a loud pop that made them all jump up. Instinct took over and they all assumed battle-ready stances. The door to the kitchen swung open and a cloud of smoke poured out as their son ran into the living room, Veth chasing after him. The boy's face was covered in soot and the tips of his hair were singed, but he was grinning ear-to-ear. He held up a small red firecracker.

"Look what grandma got me!" he told Caleb as he was scooped up by Yasha. Jester had to force back a smile at the incredulous look Caleb shot Veth, who shrugged and went red in the face. Jester didn't get what was so bad about it; it wasn't any worse than the throwing stars from Aunty Beau.

The vision changed again, flying past years of coffee in the mornings and selling pastries in the afternoon. Past two more children, another boy and a girl. Past many more years of reunion with old friends, as their bones grew weaker and the wrinkles on their faces grew. Past years of their children growing up and leaving. To one night in front of a dying fire. Her hair was going grey while Caleb's was already shock white. He had to wear spectacles all the time now just to find his underwear drawer. Her fingers were stiff as she laced them with his. She wanted so badly, even after all these years, to cuddle up to him, kiss him, fall asleep in his arms on the couch. But their bodies couldn't handle that anymore, so they sat side-by-side in the matching chairs, clutching the other's hand like an anchor.

Caleb sighed, his spectacles reflecting the small tongues of flame which peeked out among the crumbling logs.

"What?" Jester asked sleepily.

"I…" he said, his voice thin and raspy. "I did not deserve this life."

Jester's eyes opened, blinking at the sunset that shone off the water and painted the clouds with pink and red-purple highlights. She sat up and could feel her hair sticking out in weird directions. She should totally find a mirror to see what it looks like.

"Have a good nap?" Caleb asked. He was still in the same position, though he had put his coat back on. Jester nodded, though her heart ached when she saw him. It had only been a dream, she told herself. Anything can happen in dreams. But this felt like so much more than a dream and a part of herself couldn't help but wonder. It could happen. She could marry Caleb, live a quiet life with him, give him children, see their friends every year and live to a ripe old age. If any life could make anybody happy, surely it would be a life like that. Would it make Caleb happy? Or would he still be sad? Would he still hate himself and think he deserved to be hated by others? Would he ever believe it when people said they cared for him? That she cared for him?

Jester scooted over to Caleb and put her arms around his neck. He stiffened up.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," she replied, squeezing him tighter.

"Then what's this for?"

Jester pulled back from him, one hand on his shoulder. "Caleb," she said, breathing slowly, trying not to let her voice break. "You know we all love you, right? Me and the group?"

Caleb didn't respond, instead turning away his eyes.

"You do know that, right?" Jester pressed, feeling her chest clutch in sadness.

Caleb stayed quiet. Jester wiped her tears before they could fall.

"Look," she said, cupping Caleb's chin so she could tilt his face up and look him in the eye. "I know you, like, don't think you're a good person and that people shouldn't like you or whatever. But you have six people around you who love you a lot. One of those people thinks of you like her son. And you just need to get used to that, ok?"

Caleb didn't speak, the seagulls filling the silence where Jester had hoped there would be words.

"How come it never feels like it?" Caleb's voice was a choked whisper. Tears fell from his eyes and slid into his bright red stubble. Jester cupped his cheek and wiped a tear away gently with her thumb.

"Love isn't a feeling, Caleb," she said softly. "It's… a demonstration. Like, when I was sad, my mama would give me a lollipop or rock me back and forth until I went to sleep. Those made me feel better, but I wasn't because of those things. It was because Mama was showing me how much she loved me, y'know?" Caleb nodded. "Look at what people do for you Caleb; you'll see how much you're loved." She pulled him into another hug, her arms wrapped around his neck and her face buried into his shoulder. She felt his arms move slowly up. His hands lay gently on her back and she smiled. His body shook with silent sobs as he put his face in the nape of her neck. Jester felt warm all over; she hoped Caleb felt the same.

Caleb put his arms down and leaned away, wiping his eyes and slowing his breathing. Jester rubbed his shoulder in little circles.

"Thank you, Jester." Caleb's face was filled with more gratitude and hope than Jester had ever seen there before. She smiled.

"You're welcome."

They shuffled around, collecting their books and rolling the blankets. Jester slung it on her shoulder and Caleb tucked his books under his arm. It seemed to Jester that he looked different as he moved. Less weighed down. Less self-conscious. Less fearful. It made Jester smile.

"What?" Caleb asked.

"Nothing," she replied, standing on tip-toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. "I just like being around you." Caleb's face went red.

"Same," he said, eyes wide.

They walked along the beach, the sand warming their feet, in blissful silence.


End file.
